"What is it?" a volunteer asked Jungle Judi. "He sure is ugly."
'"I don't have a clue! Before we worry about that, let's attend to that damaged wing and check for other injuries."
Once the wing was set and the bird stable, Jungle Judi called me to identify the bird. I didn't have a clue either. I had never seen a bird quite like it before. "It beats me," I mumbled, "Better get out the bird books."
After much page turning, we agreed that it was a black vulture. Thus began the saga of Fugley, the black vulture. Time passed and Fugley's wing healed. He became a juvenile and did what juveniles do.
"Hey, whatzup with all this?" I asked one day, stepping over white gobs on the floor of the center. "What in the world is that sound? It reminds me of a steam train trying to go up a hill."
"That, my dear, is Fugley poop. The sound you hear is his warning that something is about to blow," Jungle Judi laughed. "You had better not stand too close."
"Well, put him in a carrier for goodness sake. He is making a terrible mess."
"No way -- he is my buddy!" she said, taking up a mop. "Strange thing about vulture poop -- it leaves the floor clean."
Fugley gives me an eye from his pearch on the edge of the mop bucket, as I make my way back to my corner of the world, I passed a little too close to suit him and I heard the steam train sound again. My feet can move my fat body surprisingly fast.
"Ah hah, you missed me," I taunted him and for some silly reason, stuck out my tongue in his direction. Several days later he got even.
"How did you get in here?" I asked Fugley, when I caught him standing on the edge of my desk?" (Yes, I talk to animals -- so what? You don't have to hang from a tree to be a nut!)
He was perched on the edge of my desk with his working end pointed at my computer keyboard. I was too late. He leaped from the desk and ran down the hall, like an egg bound chicken.
Take my word for it. Cleaning Fugley poop from a keyboard is not a fun thing. Apparently vultures have memories like an elephant, and they are smart birds. I mean, how many birds do you knpw that can open a door with a round knob?
Fugley and I have developed a love/hate relationship. I love him for his antics and he hates me for the smart remarks I make about his looks.
Fugley has fans all around the world since I put his picture out on the internet. He is the unofficial mascot of the Writer's Club on AOL. A fellow from New England e-mailed me he reminds him of Icabod Crane, from the movie "Sleepy Hallow".
I'm keeping a sharp eye on Fugley. I will try to head him off, if he gets the notion to start circling me.
Editor's note:
The black vulture (also known as the black buzzard) in flight may be distinguished from the turkey vulture by it's short , square tail and the light patches near the tips of the short, wide wings. It flies with rapid flaps to become airborne and glides in the rising air currents, searching for food.
It's range is accross the southern United States to Arizona. With wing spans of upward to 55 inches, it is a formidable flier. Outwardly the sexes appear the same. Eggs are laid in the hollow bases of a tree or a tree stump, seldom more than ten feet from the ground. Usually two pale, gray green eggs which hatch within forty days. The young can fly after seventy days in the nest.
More aggressive than the turkey vulture, blacks are the consummate recycler and deserve our protection.
